Nazareth victims work to rebuild bonds a year after attack

The wounds musician Bill Foley suffered during a machete attack in a Northeast Side restaurant a year ago today have healed.

Faint scars remain following surgery and physical therapy, but he can strum a guitar like he did before that night at Nazareth Mediterranean Cuisine.

At the same time, he's in a sort of emotional rehab with his former friend Hany Baransi, the restaurant's owner.

After the Feb. 11, 2016, attack at the restaurant, Baransi was obsessed that he had been a victim of terrorism. He asked Columbus' mayor, the FBI and the governor to come to his restaurant.

"I wanted them to stand by me and say together we will fight terrorism," he said.

He got no response, which angered him.

He's certain Mohamed Barry targeted him because Baransi is an Israeli Arab and a Christian. Barry's religion was never verified. Nor was a motive. A Columbus police officer later shot and killed him in a standoff near Easton Town Center shortly after the attack.

Baransi tried to recruit Foley, a 55-year-old Reynoldsburg musician who played at Nazareth every Thursday, to support his claim of terrorism.

Federal investigators labeled the attack "a potential terrorism incident." The FBI, which said Barry had been on a watch list for extremist views, is still investigating.

President Donald Trump recently included Nazareth on his list of terrorism attacks that he said the media "under-reported." When Baransi heard that, "I cried, I cried just for the fact it's been acknowledged."

10 terrible minutes

Foley said Barry came into the restaurant that afternoon. He didn't stand out. He looked like any customer waiting for carryout. Workers said Barry asked when Baransi would show up and what kind of food was served there. Then he left.

Around 6 p.m., Barry returned to the restaurant carrying a machete and a knife. He started bashing and stabbing, starting with a couple by the door. The attack ended less than 10 minutes later when a restaurant worker armed with a baseball bat chased away Barry, 30, an immigrant from Guinea. The worker, a green-card holder from Somalia, became a U.S. citizen the following week.

Barry struck Foley three times in the head with the machete, cut his right hand and stabbed him with the knife, puncturing his lung.

He was in OhioHealth Grant Medical Center for 11 days, including three in intensive care.

In neighboring rooms at Grant were Gerald and Debbie Russell, the couple who were sitting by the restaurant door. (They don't sit by the front door at restaurants anymore.)

"I thought he had a baton," Mr. Russell said of Barry.

He took the first blows. The machete cut his hands, which he had held over his head as protection.

Mrs. Russell stood up and yelled at Barry. "I cussed him out."

"He had that stare. It's a look I will never forget," she said.

Then the machete came down on her, cutting both of her hands, too. When she crouched down, he moved on to Foley.

Bloodied and cornered at his table, Foley lunged at Barry. They crashed over a table and wrestled on the floor. Foley then got up and went into an office, where he lay on the floor and held the door closed with his feet.

From that vantage point, he could see Barry on a surveillance monitor. He was trying to force his way into the office. Then, something made him stop.

Physical therapy

The Russells both suffer numbness or weakness in their fingers, but praised the doctors at Grant for saving all of them.

So did Foley, who said a surgeon's skills and the physical therapy team's persistence allows him to run through a two-hour set at Taranto's Pizzeria near Polaris, where the Russells watched him play oldies Thursday.

"Got my picking fingers back," he said.

On Saturday, he's celebrating with a free "Love Always Wins" anniversary concert in Kirk Hall at Central College Church, 975 South Sunbury Road. The two-hour performance starts at 6 p.m., the time of the Nazareth attack. Any donations go to the church.

The Russells will be there. So will Baransi.

Baransi, 51, who wasn't at the restaurant when Barry attacked, visited Foley and the Russells in the hospital.

"He was worried about me," Foley said. "But when I got out, he took a turn. He was bitter. He thought nobody was supporting him.

"All he could talk about was getting his business back together. I was thinking, 'I'm never going to be able to play guitar again.' ''

Foley finally did play again in early March, at a benefit concert at CD 102.5 FM. "I was terrified. I played one song, and I couldn't hit the high notes. The audience didn't care."

He returned to Nazareth on March 24 for his regular Thursday night gig. "It was huge, there must have been 300 to 400 people there," he said.

Foley played at the restaurant for a month. But Baransi's anger drove him off, he said.

The restaurant owner now understands what he was like.

"For a long time, I was all alone, fighting it," he said. "I lost customers, friends and family."

He and his wife, Kimberlee Baransi, divorced in August. For eight months, he and Foley didn't speak. The Russells stopped coming to the restaurant.

"He started going in a direction I didn't want to go," Mr. Russell said.

That has changed.

On Dec. 6, Baransi was driving on Stelzer Road when a car driven by a man fleeing Gahanna police hit him head-on. He was left with a broken leg, broken arm and spinal injuries.

"It kind of brings you back to the basics of life," he said. "It reminds you to be thankful for your loved ones and the people around you."

On Monday, Baransi finished with physical therapy. On Tuesday, he stopped by the restaurant, using a wheelchair.

The glass walls there are decorated with messages welcoming him back.

"I hurt some people and I didn't mean to," he said.

So he began contacting people and apologizing. "It was the best thing I've ever done," he said "I was a selfish pig."

Three weeks ago, he texted Foley.

"He said we might never be friends again, but he wanted to say 'I'm sorry,' " Foley said.

The next day, Foley and his wife, Cresha, had an emotional reunion with Baransi. Both said their friendship will blossom again. "I think we will," Foley said. "He's a great guy."